Because You're Always There
by Cinvxten
Summary: After a horrible car crash, Stan is hospitalized for over a year. But soon, he and his boyfriend Kyle begin to wonder why Stan hasn't been released yet. What is it that the doctors and his parents aren't telling him? Style; rated T for language and drama.
1. Chapter 1

'Persever' is done, but there's no rest for the wicked, neh heh heh. I'm so excited about this story that I could hardly wait to get it up, so here it is! Please read and review, as comments are much appreciated! Let me know what you think.

Warnings: This does have homosexual characters, but it's not the main theme of the plot for once. Still, if you have a problem with this, don't read it. I'd hate to stain your already blind eyes... This is also rated T for teen because of language and 'disturbing moments of peril.' Or so I've been told, I mean... I'm only writing the thing...

**Disclaimer: Let's have a little quiz/poll thingy. How many people think: A. I should keep putting disclaimers up here just to be safe; B. I should stop putting disclaimers up because no one actually cares; C. I should keep the disclaimers just because they're so damn funny (haha... yeah right); or D. I should shoot myself and have rabid monkey dance on my grave while singing 'La Coo Ca Ratcha' and burning whatever ungodly fanfictions I've writen in the past so that no child may be tainted by their horridness. **Note: if you choose D I will remove your stomach through your mouth. **And now for the actual disclaimer: I don't own anything South Park.**

Okay, thank you for being patient and... Enjoy!

**Because You're Always There**

Chapter One

_I heard nothing but the sound of my own breath; fleeting and small, it panted raggedly as if it weren't even my own. The first thing I thought was how beautiful the stars looked. They glinted and twinkled against the midnight sky as if laughing and dancing through the wispy clouds over head. I smiled and let out a small chuckle, blinking the debris from my eyes._

_'What's that flickering?' I found myself thinking. For some reason I couldn't find the strength to turn my neck toward the light. It was so tantalizing, because my mind was so dazed. I just had no idea what it was, and it was driving my curiosity insane. At last, with a grunt, I conquered my body and flopped my head over to the left. _

_"It's a fire," I chortled, my eyes half closed. The tiny spout of flame burned brightly on the blackened asphalt of the road. It looked as if it was trying to wrench itself free from the twisted metal anchoring it. It struggled and wiggled frantically in the icy wind, and small snowflakes descended from the heavens. "Oh no…" I whimpered. "You'll put it out…." _

_The snow didn't care. It just continued to fall ever so softly and silently. I licked my lips and felt how dry they were. Where was I? I recognized this road. Was I driving on it? _

_I found the strength in me to reach below my waist. My leg was throbbing annoyingly, and I had to see why. Maybe I was itchy, or maybe it had fallen asleep. My middle finger touched cold steel, and the half hearted grin that was so fragile upon my lips finally shattered. _

_What was that? I lowered my hand tentatively, my mind just starting to return to life. The frozen metal ended and my fingers swam in a pool of warm liquid on my thigh, just above my knee. I lifted my head and stared down at the area and my eyes grew wide with shock._

_Blood blossomed like a horrific fountain from my leg and drizzled in a steady stream onto the dirty ground below. All at once the pain rushed up my spine like a blast of lighting. The nearby forest echoed my shrill scream mockingly as I sat up and twitched involuntarily. _

_My hands hovered around the shard of steel embedded into my thigh, shaking and shivering as if they had no idea what to do with the foreign object. Fragments of glass that had gone completely unnoticed just minutes before were making their __presence known; cut into the shallow skin of my arms. My mouth opened into a soundless cry and I twisted my torso around to assess my surroundings. _

_Fire dotted the road to my left, causing shattered glass to shimmer brightly in their sheen. A car toward my right was completely flipped over. The pain was unbearable, but I had to get closer to it. Someone else… someone else had been in the car. Where was he? Where was Kyle? _

_"Stan…" _

_Kyle had to have been somewhere near. I heard his voice. I shouted in agony as I used my arms to pull my limp legs across the grass. "Kyle!" I shouted, my voice not my own, but horrible, breathless ghost._

"Stan!"

_Closer… had to get closer…._

"Stan, are you even listening to me?" I blinked, being brought unceremoniously back from my nightmare. No, not a nightmare… my past. Gingerly I brushed my hand against the pale blue pants of my trousers. Even now, I could still feel the scar. Nearly 100 stitches and almost a year of rehab in a hospital.

"I'm listening," I answered absently, my eyes still trying to adjust to the bright white walls of the hospital room. The sheets to my bed were furled and twisted into a mass of cheap fabric and my bed side stand held a dry vase with wilting flowers slowly loosing their color. In general, the entire room was pale and bland; boring.

He appeared right in my face and I chocked on a gasp, banging my head against the head board with a hollow clang. "Jesus, Kyle!" I cursed at him, rubbing the back of my raven colored locks of hair.

"Then what did I just say?" he asked, pursing his lips and leaning into me, his hands poised behind his back cutely.

"What?" He stared at me, humorless. "Okay, okay, um… you said… something about my room being a mess?"

Kyle continued to glare daggers at me, his face unchanging. Finally, his nostrils flared and he sighed, straightening out his back. "Lucky guess, bastard." Kyle walked elegantly toward a nearby chair and sank into it. "You're always the lucky one."

"Not as lucky as you," I corrected, my eyes drooping low toward the speckled tile floor. "I'm still stuck in this hospital."

"I thought I told you to stop thinking about that night," Kyle groaned. He got up with a smirk and left the room. I ran my hand along the back of my head again… it still hurt. In a few moments, Kyle returned, holding something behind his back.

"You spoil me," I grinned, anticipating what the surprise would be.

"A boy in a hospital needs something good every day to keep his spirits up!" Kyle whipped his hands around showed off a neatly wrapped package.

"You say that as if I'm going to die!" I chuckled, beckoning my friend closer. Kyle's face flashed grimly before his usual smile returned. He practically skipped back towards my side and plopped the present down into my lap. "Hey, be careful," I spat, picking up the box and raised my nose toward Kyle. "I don't ever want anything dropped on my leg ever again!"

"There you go again," Kyle reprimanded shaking his head. "That was a long time ago. You need to stop mentioning it." I wasn't paying attention, eagerly opening up the gift like a child on Christmas.

"Cookies?" I sighed after plunging my hand into the box. "Chocolate chip, even? Can't you think of something else to bring me?"

"You complain too much," Kyle said, shortly. "You're lucky I bring you anything at all!" There was a slight beat and the red head shook his head again. "Fine. What would you rather have?"

I was already chowing down into the pastry goods. I looked up to him, my mouth full to bursting. Kyle tried his best to keep a straight face but couldn't keep up the act for long. He exploded into a roaring guffaw, and tried to cover his mouth politely with his hand. After swallowing, I answered, "How about freshly baked bread?"

"And how am I supposed to keep the bread fresh on my way here?" Kyle asked, haughtily. He motioned with his hand to show I had some crumbs on my face.

I shrugged and wiped my lips clean. "I don't know. But you'll figure something out. You always do. You're just smart like that."

"Ugh, speaking of," Kyle moaned. "How do you feel about English homework?"

"I don't wanna!" I shouted, pounding my fists like a toddler into the mattress and kicking my legs in a tantrum. Unfortunately, Kyle was already getting out the books from under my hospital bed.

"Just because you're in this hospital doesn't mean you can slack off. You want to go to college eventually, right? Well, you won't get there if you let your brain rot in this place," Kyle pointed out. "I'll pay you back," he whispered coolly into my ear, leaving a buzz to slowly cascade down my spine.

"With what?" I asked, my voice merely a whisper. Kyle leaned in and placed his soft lips upon my cheek, and I felt his long lashed tickle the side of my brow.

"How's that?" he simpered.

"I think I'll need plenty more of those," I admitted, picking up the obnoxiously heavy text book off the floor, "to get through all of this alive."

"Well, you're already in a hospital, so you're halfway there!" the red head joked coyly. I opened my mouth for a rebuttal, but was cut off by my mother clearing her throat.

"Stan?" she asked from the doorway. "Oh, good, you're starting your studies. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Feeling any better today? Did you take your medication?"

I dismally cast my eyes towards the bottle full of manila capsules that was placed neatly behind the vase of flowers. "Yes, mom," I lied. "And I still don't know why I have to take pills. I feel fine, really!"

"Oh, well," my mom started, trying to mask her sorrowful eyes with a smile. "You know what the doctors say, honey: better safe than sorry. Do you… do you maybe want me to stick around? You know… keep you company a little while?"

I rolled my eyes. Mom had seen Kyle kiss me and was worried about what we might do together. "No, mother," I replied, politely. "I've got Kyle here. He's more company than I need, haha."

Mom smiled, but again it just looked… empty. "Okay then, dear. I'll just leave you alone then." She turned around and started to leave.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Marsh," Kyle called back, waving his hand in the air. "Geeze, what was with her?"

"I don't think she agrees with…" I paused, trying to find the right words. "Us…"

"Oh, yeah," Kyle nodded, looking back to watch my mother walk briskly down the hallway. "You've told me about that. Are you sure? I mean, she doesn't seem the type, you know?"

"All I want to do is finish this homework and get it over with so you and I can hang out some more."

"And eat more cookies," Kyle correct. He pushed the box closer to me and dangled his fingers in front of my eyes. "You love cookies," he stated in a windy voice. "You can't live without cookies! You must eat all the cookies!"

"What are you trying to do, hypnotize me?" I laughed, batting his hands away. Obediently, I reached down and grabbed a handful of the misshapen circles. There was a loud knock at my door, and a male nurse entered with a tray suspended by one hand. "Hey, Jim," I greeted, and Kyle did the same.

"I brought you your dinner," Jim said, grinning and lifting the plate up for me to see. Jim had to have been around thirty; and it was noticeable, as he was already starting to get grey hair peppered in with his black. He was tall and broad, like he lifted weights often. Though I don't know why, since he's just a nurse. Maybe he has a day job or something that requires heavy lifting.

"No thanks," I responded. "I've got cookies."

Jim frowned and lowered the tray. "You really should eat something, Stan," he said, cold and serious. "Abigail made it personally. I'd hate to bring it back to her uneaten… again. Really, eat something."

"Yeah, cause my cookies aren't good enough for you," Kyle mocked, placing his hands on his hips and wiggling his behind.

"Stop that," I growled. "Sorry about him, Jim. And I'm sorry again, but, Kyle will get even crazier if I don't eat all of these. I'm fine, truly. You'll just have to take it back."

"How about I leave it here," the tall man proposed, getting closer to the plastic bedside stand. "And you can eat it later tonight."

"There's no room," I countered, trying to wave him back.

"Well, I can just get rid of these," he said, motioning toward the flowers. "They look dry and dead anyway. I can just move this and-"

"No!" I shouted, my hand jutting out and gripping him by the wrist, just inches from the vase. Jim went rigid and looked as if he was about to pounce on me. "Leave those where they are. Please. I need them there." Gradually I let him go, and Jim backed out of the doorway.

"It's not healthy," he rasped quietly as he stomped out of the room. I looked over to Kyle, whose eyes were glazed over, a small smile struggling to stay on his face.

"I'm sorry, Kyle."

"It's okay, Stan," he assured me, his grin growing wider. "Really, it is. If you want, you can get rid of those flowers. You know… it was so long ago anyway."

"No…" I said, dreamily. "I'm going to keep them. They're precious to me."

"Okay… so…" Kyle slowly stepped forward, his hands behind his back again. "English?"

"Argh, way to kill the mood!" I hissed.

"Oh, c'mon, I gotta get home soon!"

"Alright, alright," I sighed. "Let's get this over with. And then I can see you tomorrow."

"Right," Kyle whispered, his eyes glossy and dim. "Tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

I hope people are enjoying this story. I'd really like people to review so that I know what you guys think. I like having feedback, and it keeps me wanting to write. So, please review?

**Disclaimer: the poll still stands (since nobody reviewed last chapter). Until then, I'll play it safe and keep the disclaimer up. I do not own South Park or its characters. However, I may own a pizza shop, but you will never know where or if I'm lying or not, muahahahaha!**

Enjoy!

**Because You're Always There**

Chapter Two

"_I… I don't think we can let you in," the teacher stammered slightly as we presented our tickets. "I mean, don't we have… rules against this?"_

_"This is the prom, isn't it?" I asked, haughtily, putting my hands on my hips. "This is supposed to be the best night or our teenage lives. And you're going to deny us it?"_

_"Stan," Kyle mumbled, tugging at my arm. "Maybe he's right. Maybe we should just leave it. I'm sure we can just go out to eat or something."_

_"We paid for our tickets, we should be allowed in!" I growled at both of them. A crowd had started to gather around us; the whispers were deafening as they flooded over us. Kenny stood with his date like a barrier, sort of like a body guard to keep the crowds at bay. Everyone knew he'd have no problem fighting anyone if they got too close._

_"Yeah, but… the rules," the teacher started again, playing nervously with his hands. This was ridiculous! Here we were, preparing for this night just like any other couple would, stressing and paying all the money, in cash no less… here, ten feet from the door, and this guy wouldn't let us in! Well, I wasn't having any of it!_

_"We already talked it over with the Principle," I explained, trying to keep myself as calm as possible. "He said the same thing about there being rules. But we proved him wrong. Our school doesn't say anything about two males going to prom together. It's just that no one's challenged it before. Everyone has always thought it was just forbidden. Well it isn't! So let us in!"_

_"Stan, lower your voice," Kyle mumbled, clinging to me timidly. I'd never seen him this nervous before. It wasn't like him. "I don't think we should push it. I have a bad feeling about tonight, I already told you that." _

_I pulled him closer and smoothed out his thick, red hair soothingly. I adjusted my tie and cleared my throat, presenting our admissions right in the teacher's face. "Here are our tickets," I spat. "We're going in. If you want to stop us, then go ahead and try. But we're going in."_

_I tucked the two slips of paper into the awe struck man's coat pocket and brushed past him, holding on to Kyle with all my might. I may have sounded confident, but I was scared as hell that the teacher would stop us. I felt my breath go ragged as I __pushed the door open and guided Kyle through. Building up all the gumption I had left, I turned around for one last glare toward the gaggle of teens behind us. They all took a step back in fear and I saw Kenny chuckle under his breath. Satisfied, I turned back around and shut the door behind us._

_"We made it!" Kyle shouted over the booming music, his face bright and smiling. _

_"I told you," I scolded, jabbing him playfully. "I'd get us in. And look, I did!"_

_"Seventy dollars each," Kyle mused, smoothing out his tux. "And they don't refund tickets. My wallet wouldn't have been able to recover from such a blow!" We both laughed at our mutual poverty. At first spending every dime we made over the summer on this prom seemed like a really stupid idea. But now that we were there… we couldn't be happier._

_I leaned over my boyfriend's head and kissed him pertly on the lips. He blushed and shoved me away. "So many people," he murmured, his eyes darting across the room._

_"Yeah," I agreed. "Wouldn't want to make them all jealous, would we?"_

_"Stop it," Kyle joked, hitting me across the shoulder. "So… now that we're here… what do we do?"_

_"Dance, what else, stupid?" I grinned. How cute he looked in the raving room, the pulsating beams of light surrounding Kyle in brief bursts of illumination. _

_"I don't dance," he countered, his white teeth showing through his embarrassed smile. Even in this light I could see his face growing redder. _

_"Then what was all that practicing for?" I turned and tried to lead him into the sea of swaying bodies, but he let go of my hand and ran for a table piled with things I couldn't make out, propped against the wall. "Kyle!" I called, thinking his nervousness had gotten the best of him._

_"Stan," he echoed my name back to me. He turned around from the table to face me, grinning ear to ear and held up a bouquet. "You forgot your flowers!"_

_"What?" I called, barely able to hear him from so far away._

"You forgot your flowers, Stan!"

"For…got?" I asked, looking up, my head clouded and dazed.

"Forgot, forgot, forgot," Kyle mocked, tapping my head with his fist. "You forgot to water your flowers again, dummy!" I gazed out toward the white walls of my hospital room. Another day dream. They were becoming more and more frequent now a days.

My eyes finally fell onto the bone dry vase and the wilting flowers within. "I thought I asked you to water them for me," I challenged, staring down Kyle with as serious a face as I could muster.

He returned the looked, only ten times more successfully. "And I thought I told you," he countered, his hands resting behind his back. "That you won't learn how to take care of anything if I always do it for you. If you're so hell bent on keeping these things, then you'd better water them!"

Kyle pointed towards the bouquet, their petals dim and grey. "Can't you see, Stan? They're dead already. Maybe you should just let go." That last sentence rang through my soul like a tolling bell, and I clenched my hands into fists.

"I'm not letting them go!" I shouted angrily. "I thought of all people, you, Kyle would be able to understand what those flowers meant to me!"

"Okay," Kyle replied, softly, a fragile smile spreading over his lips. "I understand." There was a slight pause as each of us calmed down and Kyle's normal demeanor eventually returned. He simpered again and said, "I have something that might cheer you up." He reached around the doorway outside into the hallway and brought back out a wicker basket.

"Is that what I think it is?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You bet!" Kyle answered, throwing off the tea towel covering the basket. "Ta da! Fresh baked bread!"

I extended my hands and took hold of the warm loaf that was about the size of a small Frisbee and nearly squealed with excitement. "Oh my god, Kyle, you're so amazing!" I complemented, my mouth running a mile a minute. "We don't ever get anything this nice at the cafeteria, you just made my day and – hey… wait."

"W-what is it?" Kyle asked, bringing his hands instinctively in front of his face as if to block from an attack. "Is something wrong? There can't be, I worked so hard on it!" I slowly lifted my head and leered at Kyle with all my will power.

"This isn't made of potatoes, is it?"

There was about a minute of awkward silence before Kyle let out a sigh. "First off, that's called latke… and second of all, _no_ you asshole! I'm not that big of a Jew."

"Can you blame me for trying to be careful?" I reprimanded, taking a piece of the non-potato bread in my hand and popping it deftly in my mouth. Kyle jumped up onto the bed and got to his knees, his legs spread out so that mine were in-between his. He lowered his back and splayed his hands onto the mattress so that his face was mere inches from my blushing cheeks.

"I think you seriously under appreciate the Jewish lifestyle," he mumbled, and I felt the heat of his minty breath tingle the end of my nose. "The instant you get out of this hospital, I'm going to make you the most authentic Jew meal to ever grace your horribly misguided eyes. Complete with latke, matzo, Gefilte fish, and maybe even some borscht if you behave well…. It'll be sure to put any hamburger or hotdog to shame."

"I don't know…" I mused, brushing my hand through his thick, red hair, both of us keeping our faces adamant and unchanging. "It looks to me like I have plenty of authentic Jew right in front of me. One that I could eat everyday of my life."

"You're a fucking tease," Kyle smirked, nipping my bottom lip before sitting up again.

"Let's go eat this somewhere else," I yawned. "I'm tired of being in this bed." The red headed beauty in front of me looked shocked as I wriggled my way out from underneath him. I placed my bare feet on the cold tile and felt a shiver course through my veins. After the initial icy blast, I eventually got used to the feeling and turned around to ask if Kyle was coming or not.

"Should you be out of bed?" he asked, truly concerned.

"Kyle, I've been able to walk fine for about six months now," I explained, my hands on my hips. "Seriously, I have no idea why I'm still in this hospital."

Kyle slinked from the bed and onto the floor, his eyes worried and sad. He pursed his lips in thought and held his hands behind his back, just like he always did. "Well…" he started, tilting his head cutely. "At least wear some slippers or something. I don't want you getting sick."

After applying some socks, the two of us left for the courtyard down on the first floor of the building. It was possibly the most spectacular part of the entire hospital. It resembled a green house what with its glass walls and warm atmosphere; plant life sprouting from the very soil, unhindered by the weather.

As we walked through the halls, I saw Jim talking to a man in a denim uniform, an equipment belt strapped snuggly to his stout form. I figure he had to be a plumber or something of that occupation. Jim stole his attention away for a second to nod in my general direction, silently acknowledging my existence.

"I won't be able to fix it for a few days," the plumber guy was saying, just loud enough for me to hear. "Until then the grate stays off, you hear?"

"I understand what you're trying to tell me," Jim growled in a low voice, seemingly very annoyed. "But I don't think _you_ understand. You know what kind of place this is! We have people who-" He stopped and looked at me again, his eyes narrowing. He took the other man by the shoulder and turned their backs to me, so I could no longer hear them.

Kyle called my name and my curiosity was immediately shattered. I shrugged off the scene that was before me and returned to Kyle's side. But not before my eyes laid momentarily on an open vent on the ground next to the plumber. It looked to me as if it led to the outside….

"Have you been eating?" Kyle asked as he stood in front the glass door that opened up to the courtyard.

"Besides what you bring me?" I asked, rhetorically. "Yeah, but only late at night. Abigail stays here all night, and when I wake up, she's always in the cafeteria and makes me something to eat. For some reason I always get hungry late at night."

"Midnight meals are never good for you, you know," Kyle countered, glaring at me. "Maybe I should stop bringing you things so that you eat when you're supposed to."

"Nah, I wouldn't want that," I laughed. "Aren't we gonna go in?"

"Could you possibly be a gentleman for once an open the door for your boyfriend?" Kyle shot back, grinning. I shook my head and pulled open the courtyard's door, bowing low in mock servant hood. Kyle returned the joke by walking triumphantly through, and if I hadn't known any better, I could have sworn he was royalty.


	3. Chapter 3

First off, I'd like to send a shout out to "You Know Who You Are." At first, I was very angry with your review, but after putting some thought into it, I decided that I was less angry and more... disappointed. Whether your assumptions were right or not doesn't matter to me. What set me over the edge was your utter lack of tact and self restraint. Honestly, if you had made your point in a PM to me, I would not have been mad at all. In fact, I probably would have applauded you and commended you. But to go so far and just put that up there willy nilly... you just gave off the impression of being an asshole. Now, I have no idea what your intentions were. For all I know, you were just trying to be a helpful critic. But you weren't helpful. In fact, if that was what you were aiming for, than you were totally counter productive; because I nearly stopped writing this story _entirely_ because of you!

Now, heaven forbid, if you wrote that review for the sole purpose of getting a rise out of me, than congratualations again. You did it. But I'm telling you now: have your fill of this tiny rant while you can, because I'm not going to mention it again. I hope in the future you can be less crass about what you say. Everyone is entitle to their opinion about where they think this story is going to go... but you were just a bitch about it!

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any of their characters. And apparently I don't own any original plot devices or ideas. But hey... I try my best with what I have. Can you blame me for doing anything but?**

**Please enjoy.**

**Because You're Always There**

Chapter Three

_My eyes cracked open, the strain of it aching my body all over. My hands and face were caked with dry mud as I whimpered in pain, my head throbbing heavily. My vision was too blurry to tell where I was, but I heard the busy scampering and the shouts of frantic people nearby._

_I groaned and cried, tears cutting through the sea of dirt splattered against my cheeks. I panted, coughing at the very struggle of breathing. It seemed as if all the wind in my lungs had been knocked out of me and failed to return. _

_Sobbing, I tried to clear my eyes of the debris, but could hardly move my arms. They were strapped to machines and beeping consuls that echoed my own pounding heart. I let out another pained shout that mixed with my confusion into a jumble of unintelligible babbling._

_"You have to let me see him!" I heard someone saying. "He's my son! He's my son, god dammit! Let me in!" There was a short scuffle and finally the person entered the room. "Stan, can you hear me? It's me, your mother."_

_"Mom," I whispered, my voice hoarse from the screaming. "W-what happened, I don't – I don't know what's going on."_

_"Oh Stan, you're alive," was all my mother could say. "Thank God you're still alive. Thank God."_

_At last my sight cleared and I gazed out into the hospital room, blinded by its floral wallpaper. I searched the area for my mother until at last I laid eyes on her. Her face was red with tears and she was sobbing just as much as I was. I looked past her to see my father guarding the doorway, trying to pick a fight with a doctor that was trying to explain why they couldn't be there._

_"Mom, am I…" I started, but stopped to swallow, my throat parched. "Am I in a hospital?"_

_"Yes, honey, but you're… you're alright. I promise." I glanced back at her, and she had taken my hand into hers, staining her palms with the dirt that soiled my own. "You should get some rest, Stanley. You've been through a lot."_

_"Mom, where's Kyle?" I asked, my breathing getting ragged again and my heart pumping at inhuman speeds. "Where's Kyle? He was with me, I saw him! Where is he?"_

_"Shh, it'll be fine," she smiled weakly back. "He's going to be alright, honey. He's not in any pain. But the doctors say they're about to knock you out so you don't feel anything for a while. They say it isn't good that you're hurting so much."_

_"I don't want to," I stammered, still crying. "I want to see Kyle. I have to see Kyle!"_

_"Stanley, we can't take you from this room," my mother tried to make me understand. "You're hurt too much." The doctor finally pushed by my father and walked up to me with a syringe filled with some liquid. He forced it into my arm and poured the entire vile in. I gasped, realizing that they were putting me under._

_"You'll let me see him, won't you?" I pleaded to my mom before I felt the drugs taking their toll. "Please, mom. You have to let me see him!"_

_"Don't worry, honey," she assured me. "I promise I'll take you to see him. As soon as you're better."_

_I closed my eyes, losing the strength to keep fighting the pain. The doctor pulled my parents away toward the door and started speaking with them. Slipping in and out of consciousness, I heard bits and pieces of their conversation:_

_The doctor was informing them of something. "Stan… worried he won't… Severe damage to… Such trauma… brain… potentially fatal… afraid he won't make it… Stan will have… under constant surveillance… proper medication… could survive."_

_My mother burst into another fit of tears. She broke through the sobs to say a few words. "He needs Kyle… are in love… let them see… you don't understand!" _

_I couldn't tell what the doctor did then. I can only imagine that he shook his head and walked away. Mom came back into the room and cried over me. "Oh, Stan," she sobbed. I let the drugs take me, and I slipped away, her words resonating within my ears._

_"Oh, Stan…"_

"Stan… Stan!"

I jumped up from my bed, cold sweat dripping from my heaving chest. My head was pounding and I reached up to cradle my forehead gingerly. A gasp escaped my throat as I looked over and saw a dark shadow against the window of my hospital room. His silhouette was like a black stain on the pearl white walls of the room, awash with the moonlight pouring in through the polished glass.

The dark figure moved forward and I saw him more clearly. It was Kyle. "Jesus dude," I panted, my heart still racing from the shock. I checked the nearby clock and it blinked the time in a red effulgent glow. "It's fucking 1:30 in the morning. What the hell are you doing here?"

"I had a nightmare," he mumbled, his eyes sad and low. "It was so vivid. You were clutching your head in terrible agony. You were screaming so loud, and I couldn't help you. In my dream you… you died. It just felt so real. I couldn't stay home and just go back to sleep. I thought it might have been a premonition or something. I came here as soon as I could."

"But…" I started, rubbing my still aching head. "How did you get in? They lock the doors at night."

"I found an air vent that was open," Kyle explained to me, coming closer. "I used it to get inside. It was big enough for me to crawl through easily." I glanced at his clothes that were streaked with dust and dirt. He caught my suspicious look and simpered weakly. "It was really dirty," he laughed, blissfully ignorant at how he had broken one of the hospital's strictest rules.

"Still, you shouldn't be here," I growled, concerned for him. What if he went to jail for this? I'd go crazy without him visiting me everyday!

"Are you kidding, dude?" Kyle smiled, his voice in a loud whisper. "Do you know how much shit we could do here at night and not get in trouble?"

"Kyle, people patrol the halls at night!" I informed harshly. "We could only do so much. Not to mention that some of the wings here, like the ER and the cafeteria, are open all night. Who knows how many people are up and about right now!"

"So, you're allowed to leave your room to go eat midnight snacks, and yet I'm not?" Kyle held his hands behind his back, puffing out his chest in defiance.

"You're not even supposed to be here!" I practically shouted, forgetting to keep my voice low. Kyle backed away with a start, the grin dancing across his lips shattering. He curled further into himself and stared at the floor. I sighed, brushing my black bangs out from my face. "Look, I'm still really hungry, now that you mention it. I'll go get something from Abigail, and we can share it together. Will that make you happy?"

Kyle looked up, his mouth agape in awe. Quickly he closed his eyes and bore his gleaming teeth in a smile. I loved how the moonlight played across his sparkling teeth. With a grunt, I wrenched myself from my overly comfortable bed, already missing its warmth.

My bare feet padded across the tile floor like they had so many nights before. I would bet my life on knowing the way to the cafeteria. Since there were hardly any windows in this wing of the hospital, it was always pitch black during the midnight hours. And yet, with only the far off shimmering of the cafeteria lights to guide me, I could make it there with no problem; the only thing tripping me up was the occasional misplaced wheelchair.

At first I was worried at leaving Kyle alone. What if the nurses checked up on the patients at night? What if they found him in my room and blew the whole thing out of proportion. Ugh, I could hear my mother already: "You're in the hospital trying to get better, and you're off sexing with some other boy during the night!"

I put out all thoughts of doubt and put on my best 'I just got out of bed' look. Abigail was sharp. She could read me like a book so well it wasn't even funny. I had to be extra careful to not let anything slip in front of her. I took a deep breath and plunged through the door, wiping my eyes and yawning.

"Don't give me that look," I heard from across the room. "You're not that tired, boy!"

Shit. Caught already.

"Hey, Abigail," I groaned, throwing off my already see-through disguise. Abigail was very nice African American woman, who was brutally honest, but warm enough that anyone could confide in her. In many ways, she reminded me of Chef… only you didn't want this cook singing any time soon. But I feared that Kyle sneaking into the hospital so late was something not even I could mention to her.

"What will it be tonight?" she asked, waving a slotted spoon around in the air. I took a second to steal a glance of the cafeteria. Surprisingly it was empty. Usually there were staff members there, watching a late night game or something like that. But the television was snowing softly in the distance, the area completely vacant. "Since it's technically morning already," Abigail continued. "How about some breakfast?"

"Pancakes and eggs," I said bluntly with a grin.

"Good thing too," the cook agreed, raising an eyebrow deftly. "Cause no matter what you asked for, I was gonna make breakfast anyway."

"Thanks," I said, laughing at her amusing attitude. Abigail poured me a glass of orange juice and I practically inhaled it. The liquid caused a twinge to rattle my tongue and I reveled in the sensation. Abigail cleared her throat, already working her magic on the stovetop.

"Should I…" she started, her eyes not leaving the batter in front of her. "Should I make something for Kyle as well?"

I nearly chocked on the glass. Okay, Abigail was sharp, but this was insane! "W-what do you mean?" I asked, cursing at how I had stuttered. "It's so late at night, and visiting hours end at eleven, you know that. How could Kyle be here?" I averted my gaze, hoping she wouldn't see the lie in my eyes.

She stopped to look at me, the frown on her face slowly warming into a smile. "Yes, of course," she said at last, her voice laced in mock innocence. "How silly of me."

I swallowed hard. Was she really fooled by my lame attempts? Abigail went back to cooking, scrambling the eggs just how I liked them; light and frothy. My mind strayed for a second as I wondered whether you could make scrambled eggs any _other_ way than light and frothy.

In my pondering, my eyes wandered until they focused out into the hallway. My eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, I saw in horror that at the end of the hall was the open vent that Kyle had talked about!

If Kyle really had come through that way like he said he had, there was no way Abigail could have missed him. It now became all too clear that the chef was just trying to cover up Kyle's invasion; using plausible deniability if anyone approached her about it. I let out a sigh of relief and calmed down a little bit. Abigail was someone to be trusted. Abigail was a friend.

As I stared absently out into the hallway, a man in a white uniform ran by. I straightened up with surprise, but my emotions gradually turned from shock to confusion as another man ran past the door in the same direction. And then a third.

The third man was Jim, and he skidded to a halt as he glanced into the cafeteria. He did a hasty pivot on his heels and dashed inside, wheezing a little as if he'd been running all over the place.

"Abigail," he shouted, successfully catching her attention. "We have a situation!" My eyes grew wide in fear as eventually slowed to a trot and came right up to the counter. "There's a problem, and we need everybody on full alert. There's…" Jim broke off he looked down to me, furrowing his brow.

"Stan," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Come with me, we're going back to your room this instant!"

He grabbed me by the wrist and tugged me along, my heart beating in terror. One word was all I could think about: Kyle.


	4. Chapter 4

Kind of short this one, but the story is reaching its climax! Who knows what's going to happen next?!

**Disclaimer: I actually own the letter 'S.' Every time you use that letter you must pay me a quarter. That means that everytime South Park uses the character Stan, they own me money! So in part, that makes me a semi owner of the show, allowing me to do anything I want with the characters! **Note: this is all a lie.

**Enjoy!**

**Because You're Always There**

Chapter Four

_I knocked on the door of Kyle's house, the hollow echo of it sending a shiver down my spine. I was possibly more afraid of this moment than any to come. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for one more minute of sweet silence. It could quite possibly get very loud very soon…._

_My eyes snapped open at the sound of creaking. I looked down and saw the brass doorknob on the house slowly turning like tumblers on a safe. The door cracked open and the sickening scent of perfume wafted to my nostrils. They flared in irritation, but I coaxed my face to keep its fragile grin._

_"Stanley," she said deftly, her voice cold and still. _

_"Mrs. Broflovski, it's nice to see you again," I greeted with a smile. Her eyes were mooned over in annoyance and she remained silent. I was hoping she would move aside and let me in, but she was as unmoving as a statue. I cleared my throat nervously and coughed into my hand. "Is Kyle ready yet?"_

_"No," she responded practically before I even finished my sentence._

_"Could we perhaps come in and wait for him, Sheila?" my mother asked, appearing at my side and throwing a coat over her shoulders. "It is a little chilly out here."_

_"Oh, good evening, Sharon," Kyle's mother said, some life returning to her voice. "Yes… I suppose you could come in and wait for him." Only then did she move from the doorway and let us in. All of a sudden I was very thankful for mom insisting she come with me. I eagerly brushed past the two of them, and Sheila choked on a cough. It was then that I realized that not even she could stand the perfume she was wearing; it was all just a ploy to annoy me._

_"Why, hello Stan!" Mr. Broflovski called to me from the dining table. I let out a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice. He didn't seem angry with me at all. "I'm so glad our son is getting to go to the prom." He paused a second to let out a sort of chortle. "This isn't really what I was expecting but… I'm happy for Kyle none the less."_

_I simpered and straightened out my tie gingerly. I was trying my hardest not to attract any attention. But the flash of a camera quickly caused me trip over my own feet and onto the nearby couch. Mom chuckled and held up her digital camera again._

_"No!" I defied, putting up my hand. "No pictures!"_

_"What's wrong with pictures?" she asked me, still laughing. "You want to be able to look back on this day, right? And a picture is worth a thousand words. I can't wait to see the two of you together!"_

_"Mom," I growled. "You're embarrassing me."_

_"Now Stan," Gerald started, getting up from his seat. "There are very few special moments in you life; most of them pass you by without you even realizing it. Prom is something that you'll never have again. I think you can bare to put up with a few pictures for just one night. If not for yourself, then for Kyle."_

_I looked down to the floor, feeling ashamed. Mr. Broflovski had a way of doing that to people. I glanced toward my cell phone and gawked at the time. "We're so going to be late!" I cursed, running my hand instinctively through my hair. "Kyle!" I called up the stairs in agitation. "Are you coming or not?"_

_"I- I'm coming," came the small reply. Gradually, the red headed beauty descended the stairs, his hand timidly on the railing. His emerald eyes seemed to glow brightly, causing my own to dilate in awe. His plain black suit fit so well on him that it looked as if it were meant for him. He blushed and looked away from the rest of with a bemused smile on his lips. "You… you look great Stan."_

_"You look amazing," I mumbled, barely even aware of what I was saying. "But… I thought you were going to wear a dress!" Kyle glared daggers at me and trotted down the rest of the stairs with an annoyed look on his face._

_"You shut up," he mumbled to me as he passed by. "I really don't know about this Stan. We're not even sure if we're allowed in. I just… I just have a bad feeling about tonight."_

_"Speaking of shutting up," I began, purposely ignoring my boyfriend's concerns, placing my hands on my hips. "Where's Kenny. Wasn't he supposed to meet us here?"_

_"He's not here yet," Kyle informed with a sigh._

_"What?" I asked in disbelief, shaking my head._

"I said he's not here."

I shook my head again. I must have blacked out in fear on the way to my room. I didn't even remember walking here. I gazed into the darkness of the hospital area, the only source of light was the waning moon through the window. Sure enough, Jim and I were the only ones there. I thanked God that Kyle had enough sense to hide when we got in. But still, I couldn't let on anything. I had to keep playing dumb.

"Who are you talking about?" I asked after swallowing my insecurities.

"He's a patient here," Jim informed and I felt the weight of the world lift from my shoulders. I guess they weren't looking for Kyle after all. "He managed to get away, knocking down two nurses on his way," Jim continued, eyeing up the room suspiciously.

"What's the matter with him?" I asked, making my way to the bed, hoping I'd be able to see where Kyle was hiding.

"He came in for a routine check up," Jim explained, and looked as if he was calming down a little. "We discovered a… a tumor in his brain. He doesn't have much longer to live. As soon as we told him, he freaked out, saying that he didn't want to die, that he had so much to live for still. We tried to restrain him, but in his craze, he managed to escape into the hospital."

"Wow," I said, unable to come up with something more creative for the shocking news. "I can't imagine what that would be like. To have someone tell me that I was going to die in just a few short days."

Jim looked over to me, his eyes misty. He scratched the stubble on his chin and averted his gaze. "Yeah," he agreed. "We usually try to refrain from telling people that. Especially if we think they'll react like that patient did." Jim took this moment to adjourn, and headed for the door. "I think I'd better get back to work. I don't know if we've found him yet or not."

The nurse headed out into the hallway, grabbing the silver knob on his way out and pulling the heavy door shut. I heard it click softly and let out a sigh. I gasped when I heard my breath echoed back to me by someone else.

Kyle was pressed up against the wall, his back flat against it. I laughed at his cleverness in spite of my worry. He had hidden behind the open door as we walked in; a really good hiding place. "No wonder you're afraid of hospitals," he whispered under his breath.

"Can you believe I've actually gotten over it?" I laughed, beckoning him out of the corner. I furrowed my brow in thought and bit my lip. "What do you mean anyway?"

"Some guy shows up for a routine check up," Kyle started, leaning against the mattress. "And finds out he's had a brain tumor he never even knew was there. That's fucking scary if you think about it! And then Jim said they don't usually tell them it's there unless it's…." Kyle trailed off, his shoes squeaking to a halt as his mouth fell open.

"What?" I asked, concerned about where he was going with this. Kyle hastily reached out and rubbed his hand on my thigh, the one with the scar.

"You can walk, now… right?"

"Yeah, perfectly fine," I answered, confused. "It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"And how long have you been here?"

"A little less than a year." His reactions were really starting to freak me out. "W-what are you thinking Kyle? What's this all about?"

He looked up to me, his green eyes cold and shimmering tearfully in the moonlight. "So why are you still in this hospital?" I swallowed hard. He couldn't really be thinking- "It's so obvious. The night of the crash. They had to have checked you for any internal problems. They would have had to make sure they checked up on everything, it's only natural."

"Kyle?" I called, my voice quivering as the realization started to creep over me.

"Just a…" he started, looking away. "Just a routine check up."


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry this was so late and most likely feels so rushed. But school has put a damper on my writing schedual. I decided to condense the last few chapters into two final ones, including this one. Just the FYI

**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park of their characters.**

**Because You're Always There**

Chapter Five

"_Hey!" the kid shouted at me, pushing me across the floor. As if it were all scripted, the crowd parted and mumbled. Kyle latched onto my arm and his face grew crimson with embarrassment, his eyes darting through the circle of peers. I gritted my teeth at the other boy. He looked to be a senior like the rest of us, and he was swaggering like a drunken curmudgeon. _

"_What do you think you're doing?" I asked, keeping myself calm for Kyle's sake. I stood astonished as even the booming music grew quiet as if taking a gasp at the sight of everyone gathering around to see a potential fight. _

"_You were staring at my ass, faggot!" the kid growled at me, his words slurred and slow. He had obviously been drinking even though he was just a minor. Figures. All it takes is one person to ruin the prom experience for everyone. I thought perhaps if I played my cards right, I'd be able to get out of this without clobbering the idiot._

"_I wasn't staring at any part of you," I tried to explain, bringing Kyle in closer to me to assure him that I wasn't going to explode like he was probably thinking I would. "Please, just leave us alone."_

"_Yeah, you pussy," the boy chuckled as if he had just made the world's greatest joke. "You know you can't beat me cause you're a little queer and can only throw faggy punches that wouldn't even hurt."_

_My hand twitched, but I stayed my fist. He was _not_ going to ruin this night for me. For us. "Come on, Kyle," I started, putting on my best smile. "Do you want something to drink?" I turned both of our backs to the drunken idiot and started to push through the circle._

_For an instant I heard scuffling and suddenly my arm was empty. I whirled around, wide eyed. The buzzed senior had wrenched Kyle from me and pulled him back into the circle. Kyle attempted to push away, but his arms were already tangled and useless. I bounded for him, but his captor shouted for me to stop._

"_Ooh," he whispered into Kyle's ear, and I saw my boyfriend cringe at his breath. "No wonder you're so protective of him. He's such a cutie." He tightened his grip on Kyle's arm and the red head yelped before clenching his jaw shut, scrunching up his face in discomfort._

"_What are you saying?" I asked, astonished. "You made all those homophobic comments, and yet now you're calling Kyle cute?" He sneered at me and nuzzled his face sloppily into Kyle's hair. "Well, are you gay or not?"_

"_I'm not a fucking queer!" he yelled at me, but his actions betrayed him as he began to blatantly grope the front of Kyle's pants. My boyfriend wriggled violently, but he was in such an awkward position that he couldn't break free. "What luscious lips you have, little red riding hood."_

_Gradually he brought down his own lips sloppily onto Kyle's and even the crowd gasped at him. _

_That was the last straw. With his attention occupied by sucking Kyle's face, I hastily closed the distance between us. The kid lifted his head to tell me to stay back again, but was much too slow for the alcohol in his system. With Kyle a safe distance away from the boy's inflated head, I landed one directly across cheek. _

_He let out a pained shout as he crumpled to the floor in a ball. Not even a minute later, my hand was caught in a firm grasp. I looked up in confusion and saw the principle glaring down at me. For an instant I saw a satisfied grin dance across his face, but it eventually melted into a furious frown._

"_I'm afraid fighting is against the rules," he stated bluntly. "You and Kyle will have to leave."_

"_What about that guy?" I cried pointing to Kyle's attacker who was already getting to his feet. "He started all of this! You must have seen the way he grabbed Kyle!"_

_The principle leered at me, silent, and I saw the cogs in his brain turning, trying to find an excuse. My mouth gaped open in awe as I realized he didn't care about the other kid. He just wanted Kyle and me out of there. Finally, he resorted to the oldest and cheapest of tricks: plausible deniability. "I didn't see him do a thing. But I saw you punch him."_

"_And what did Kyle do?" I growled._

"_I guess you're right," the principle shrugged. "He can stay."_

"_One moment please," Kyle said, calmly. He walked over to the drunk from before and smiled to him cheerfully. "You hear that? Stan is being forced from the prom because of you." The boy rubbed his black eye gingerly and Kyle laid his hands upon his shoulders. With one strong blow, Kyle kneed him in the crotch. "That's for kissing me, bastard…."_

_The kid didn't even scream as all the wind was knocked out of him and fell to the ground for a second time. Kyle turned back around to face the principle and simpered coyly. "Awe, shoot," he said in mock disappointment. "I guess that means I have to leave too…."_

_I slammed the door of my car shut after crawling into the driver's seat. I pounded my open palms onto the steering wheel and gripped them with all my might. Kyle, his face dark and sad, opened the passage door and slid in sheepishly._

"_It's not so bad," he tried to comfort me, but his eyes were glazed and full of disappointment._

"_He didn't care that we got into a fight," I grumbled, keeping my eyes on the dash board. "He just wanted an excuse… any excuse… to kick us out of there."_

"_I know," Kyle nodded, his eyes mooned over. _

"_We worked so hard to get there!" I cried, feeling tears begin to burn behind my eyes. "Isn't there any where we can go in this stupid town? It's like it's hopeless and nobody cares!"_

"_I care," the red headed beauty said, his voice low. He leaned over and kissed me, but I pulled away with a start._

"_I can taste the beer," I mumbled, and Kyle fell back into his seat, defeated. I started the car and began to pull out of the parking lot. _

_Kyle frowned and gingerly clicked in his belt. "Buckle your seat belt," he said softly, a chasm of silence growing between us. "There's no need to go so fast, Stan," Kyle warned after another minute. _

"_You really should buckle your seat belt, Stan."_

"_You're going too fast, Stan."_

"_Stan, I'm warning you."_

"I know!" I shouted angrily.

"I'm warning you Stan, you really need to take your medication!"

I was in no mood to listen to Jim. I glared daggers at him, my brow furrowed in rage. How long? How long had he lied to me? How many times did he cover up for my condition? How long did my parents know? And why did they never tell me? Tell me the real reason I've been left in this hospital to rot!

"Is this bottle full?" Jim exclaimed as he picked the orange canister. "You haven't taken your medication in… six months?! Stan, do you want to die?!"

"I feel fine," I informed shortly.

"It doesn't matter how you feel," Jim lashed out. "You take the pills because we tell you to, and that's all you need to know!"

I remained silent. I had no need to argue with him. It was a pointless debate, since I would never have to see Jim or Abigail or any of the other liars who so easily and mercilessly clouded my mind ever again after tonight. Kyle and I had a plan. Tonight… we were escaping this hell.

Later, when my parents visited, Jim pulled them aside out in the hall. I knew what he was telling them; that I haven't been taking my medication. I took a little amusement in the idea that I had paid their lies back in lies of my own… only soon I'd do it with interest.

As I listened with eagerness, I heard Jim explaining his concern that I haven't been taking my pills. I heard him scheme with them, saying things like slipping the medication into my food when I ate. Ha! Even if I wasn't leaving, it would never have worked. I heard everything, even my bastard parents agreeing to the outrageous idea!

"Stanley," came a voice, and I looked up to see the Broflovski family. All of them were there to visit me for the first time since I was first dropped into this god forsaken place. They were all dressed in black, including Kyle, who refrained from making eye contact with me. "How have you been?" Mr. Broflovski asked, his face unusually grim.

"Fine," I answered, my tongue as sharp as a knife. Ike, just as his brother, looked away from me, his eyes misty.

"Good," Mr. Broflovski nodded, he and his wife leaving, taking Ike with them.

"Sorry for them," Kyle started in a whisper. "There was a death in the family, and they're still not over it. I kind of… forced them to come visit you. They really did want to though."

"Are we still on for tonight?" Kyle looked away again and nodded, his red shocks of hair covering his eyes.

Darkness fell like a cloud looming over the midnight sky, but my heart was pounding so hard and the adrenaline rushing through my veins both kept me wide awake. Soon I heard the stroke of midnight and opened my eyes wide for them to adjust. This was it. This was my time to move. It was now or never.

Strangely, I found it difficult to move my legs, as if they were weighed down with the guilt of my actions. At last, I wrenched them free of the spell and jumped from my hospital bed. Throwing on a robe, I took one last look at the white walls of the room and wondered for a second when they painted over the floral wallpaper from before.

My eyes fell onto the withered flowers on my bed side stand. I never did water them…. Should I take them with me? Or would they just be in my way? My hands lighted over them and they shivered dryly beneath my fingers. For some reason… I couldn't leave them behind.

Hands full with the bouquet, I easily maneuvered my way through the halls. The only obstacle in my way was Abigail. The guiding lights of the cafeteria warned me of impending discovery if I was not careful. Kyle may have made the mistake of being seen by Abigail, but I wouldn't. I knew she was watching, and I knew that it would only be a matter of time before she let down her guard.

My patience paid off. As I hid behind a cart just outside the double doors… mere yards away from the open grate of the vent… I watched and saw that periodically Abigail would leave for a quick cigarette. She would leave for nearly fifteen minutes.

About an hour later, my body was going completely numb, but finally the chef left for her second break. I saw the worry in her eyes. I didn't arrive tonight for my midnight dinner run and she was obviously concerned. I, however, did not feel sorry for leaving her. Too many times had she lied to me… kept secrets. How could I forgive her… or any of them for that matter?

With Abigail gone, I dashed for the vent, tripping as blood began to circulate again through my legs. I skidded to the ground and grinned in success as I noted that the opening was more than enough for me to fit through. I reached out my free hand and felt the air billow softly from the outside. I took in one last breath and plunged in.

I brushed the dirt from my hands and trousers, my bare feet in the dew damp grass. Grass! Can you believe… the only grass I've seen for near of a year had been through my window?

"You brought the flowers?" Kyle asked, appearing at my side. After calming down from the shock, I nodded with a smile.

"I couldn't leave them behind." Kyle frowned and told me to follow him. "I'm starving," I complained, hearing my empty stomach echo my grumbling.

"Do you have money?" he asked me, and I pulled a twenty dollar bill from my pocket. "It's all I have to my name."

"We can get more later if we need to," Kyle informed, a fragile smile spreading across his lips. "Right now, let's get you something to eat. There's a restaurant about fifteen blocks from here. Would you like to go there?"

My face brightened immediately. "Hell yeah!"

xxxxx

"How many?" the greeter asked as we walked through the glass doors. It was nearly three in the morning and the place was deserted but for a few other people.

"Two," I answered, feeling my face flush in embarrassment as the woman looked me over. I was wearing a light blue shirt and pants covered with a robin's egg colored robe and was barefoot… all while holding a dead bouquet of flowers. I can only imagine what she was thinking.

"Okay," she confirmed, picking up two menus and leading Kyle and me to our table. She laid them down and walked away briskly, grabbing the near by manager and whispering something into his ear.

"Are you going to sit down?" I asked, pulling out the chair and sitting myself down.

"I'll just stand," Kyle mumbled, looking at the manager as he approached.

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave," the man said coldly.

"We just got here!" I cried, frustrated and hungry.

"Look, sir, I don't know if you know, but we have rules here. We've… we've called the police, Mr. Marsh" I stood up with a start and Kyle remained motionless. "Please, don't be alarmed, sir. We know who you are because you've been all over the news for the past half hour. They're all looking for you."

"Kyle we have to go!" I shouted, running for the door. "They can't catch me! I can't go back there!" At first, Kyle was hesitant, his bangs covering his eyes darkly. After a split second, he frowned and broke out into a jog to catch up with me.

Together we raced down the streets of the small town. I don't know how long we were running, but I must have been out of shape. I was panting and cursing while Kyle was barely breaking a sweat. We turned a corner as sirens began to pierce the air and ran into an alleyway.

"I think we're safe for now…" I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

"Are you sure?" Kyle asked, calmly. I looked up and followed his gaze down into the dark abyss of the alley. Something stirred and emerged into the dim light.

"And here I was thinking I wouldn't get anything tonight," said a rough voice. A dark and menacing man approached the two of us, bearing his yellowed teeth. Slowly, he took a gun from his coat pocket and poised it at us, ready to fire. "We can do this two ways: You give me all the money you have, or I shoot you and take it anyway."

"Please, we don't have much," I pleaded, the sight of the pistol sending a shiver down my spine. "Just let us go, please!"

"Not a chance," he growled. "Give me all you've got, or I'll kill you." His voice was low and course, like sandpaper. "Hurry up, you! I don't have all night. Those sirens are getting closer."

"The police are looking for _us_," I started, raising my hands and clenching my fist around the flowers, trying to reason with the crazed man. "They'll be here any minute!" I looked over to Kyle as saw he remained motionless, his face down cast to the ground.

"I don't care, I'll be out of here in seconds if you'll just hand over the cash." The man raised his gun and cocked it deftly, his eyes cold.

"Okay, okay," I begged, taking out my twenty dollars. "This is all we have, I swear." I reached out, and he snatched it from my grasp without a second thought. "Now will you please leave us alone?"

The man didn't move, and kept his gun pointed right at me. "K-Kyle," I started, my voice quivering in fear. "Do you have anything to give him?"

"You should run, Stan," Kyle whispered, looking up, tears falling from the corners of his eyes. "Just run."

"I can't leave you, Kyle! I-" I was cut off by a loud guffaw and I looked back to the man who was clutching his stomach as he laughed. It was a fiery and evil laugh that caused my breath to stop dead.

"What are you trying to do?" he asked after he had regained his composure. "Are you trying to trick me or something? Cause it won't work on me! Who the hell do you think you're talking to, anyway?"

"W-what?" I asked, my breathing erratic and coming in spurts. I heard footsteps and Kyle stood in front of me, spreading his arms out like a barrier between me and the man. "Kyle! Stop!"

"You have to run, Stan!" Kyle commanded quietly. "There isn't much time left. You just have to run."

"I'm not going to leave you here!" I cried, tears falling hotly like pearls from my face.

"**Damn it, Stan! Why do you never listen to me?!**" Kyle shouted, and I staggered backwards. Kyle never yelled at me like that.

"That's it," the man said, growing annoyed. "I've had enough of this shit!" He raised his pistol and aimed it directly for Kyle's chest. I gasped, locked in place.

Then… all the bustling of the city… all the roar of the sirens… all noise that ever sounded in the world… was deafened by the gunshot.

I fell against the near by alley wall, my sight growing dim and misty. I touched my stomach… and felt the blood blossom between my fingers….


	6. Chapter 6

The final chapter! I hope the ending wasn't too obvious. I did my best to make it exciting. I hope you all enjoy it, because this will be my last thing for a while. I'm going to focus more on art and drawing now. I'm gonna make a manga... I hope.

**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park or any of their characters. **

Enjoy!

**Because You're Always There**

Chapter 6

"_Damn it, Stan! Why do you never listen to me?"_

"_Who the hell do you think you're talking to anyway?"_

"_You brought the flowers?"_

"_Is this bottle full?"_

"_We usually try to refrain from telling people that. Especially if we think they'll react like that patient did."_

"_Should I make something for Kyle as well?"_

"_But…. How did you get in? They lock the doors at night."_

"_Could you possibly be a gentleman for once an open the door for your boyfriend?"_

"_Have you been eating?"_

"_But I don't think you understand. You know what kind of place this is! We have people who-"_

"_Seriously, I have no idea why I'm still in this hospital."_

"_I thought of all people, you, Kyle would be able to understand what those flowers meant to me!"_

"_I thought I asked you to water them for me."_

"_You really should eat something, Stan."_

"_It's okay, Stan. Really, it is. If you want, you can get rid of those flowers. You know… it was so long ago anyway."_

"_I'm not letting them go!"_

"_Can't you see, Stan? They're dead already. Maybe you should just let go."_

"… _Just let go…."_

Stan was rushed through the halls of the hospital, floral wallpaper glaring angrily down at him as the wheels of the stretcher skidded over the polished tile. Words flying at hundreds of miles an hour echoed in his ears, but he couldn't concentrate. He tilted his head back and forth trying to clear his clouded vision, but to no avail.

Frantic commands and urgent orders were shouted over top of Stan's motionless body as he stared into the blurry void of the skyward lights. He licked his lips and marveled at how dry they were. Where was he? What had be doing? Had be been driving on that road? Maybe he should have slowed down. His leg… his stomach….

He tried to reach across his chest to clench the throbbing pain on his torso, but his hands were either too weak to move or tied down to the stretcher.

"He's moving!" shouted a feminine voice as if she had just seen a ghost.

"Sedate him, we have to operate STAT!" Stan barely even felt the needle or the IV drip enter his arm. But he didn't care. The last bit of consciousness that remained in his mind told him that the blood loss was so severe that he was actually slipping away. He could very possibly die.

Stan must have blacked out, because the last thing he remembered was waking to the sound of his own heartbeat blipping across a monitor. It was eerie feeling of déjà vu as he glanced across the room and swallowed, his throat parched. He flopped his head to the right and was nearly blinded by the pink and flowery wallpaper. A figure sat in a near by chair and a faint smile spread across his lips.

"Kyle?"

"No, honey," answered his mother, her voice small and sad. "You're fine. You're going to live, Stan." She came closer and laid her hands gingerly upon Stan's. "Randy, he's awake finally!"

"Where's Kyle?" Stan asked, his mind still disoriented.

"Good, I'm glad he was able to pull through," Stan's father said as he entered the room. "But I'm still concerned that he tried to escape in the first place."

"It's Kyle!" Mrs. Marsh growled, clenching her fists so tightly that her knuckles grew white. "It's all because of him!"

"We can't talk that way in front of Stan," Mr. Marsh warned, but her anger could not be quelled. She stood up with vigor and paced the floor, tears straining from her eyes.

"I don't understand," Stan mumbled, confused. "He was aiming for Kyle. He was right between the two of us. How could he have missed Kyle and hit me?"

"I can't take this anymore!" Stan's mother broke, flailing her fists at her side.

"No! We mustn't!" Randy shouted, trying to hold his wife back, but it was too late. He recoiled in anguish as she opened her mouth to speak again.

**"Kyle's dead, Stanley!" **

"A whole year now, he's been dead," she continued, all her anger spewing out like pressured steam. "He died the night of the prom in the car crash! You killed him when you lost control of the car! _You_ killed him, Stan! Kyle's not here! He's never been here! All these months you've just been hallucinating!"

She staggered backwards with a gasp, horrified by what she had said. Completely shocked, she began to weep again. How could she blame her own son for the death of his only loved one? She sheltered herself into her husband's arms and cried out that she was a terrible mother.

"No," Randy tried to comfort, holding her close, keeping his eyes locked on his son. "It's alright. You were far stronger a parent then I was. I already snapped to him seven months ago. I know what will happen… just watch…."

Stan stared at the too of them, his mouth agape and his eyes dim… glazed over and foggy. Slowly, he closed his mouth and turned his head to the door of his hospital room. His face brightened and a grin creased his lips. "Kyle!" he exclaimed.

Sharon and Randy glanced at the empty doorway and let out a depressed sigh. "Kyle, I have so much to tell you! How did you dodge the bullet?"

Sharon tried to reach out to her son, but Randy held her back, shaking his head. It was too late… without taking his medication… Stan would never let go….

_Kyle had to have been somewhere near. I heard his voice. I shouted in agony as I used my arms to pull my limp legs across the grass. "Kyle!" I shouted, my voice not my own, but horrible, breathless ghost._

_"Stan," Kyle answered weakly. I looked at the over turned car and could barely keep myself from shouting; the shock of the sight stealing away my breath. The only visible part of Kyle's body was from his torso up, the rest of his body crushed beneath the impossible weight of the vehicle._

_"My god," I whispered, feeling hysteria set in, the pain of my legs dissipating with an empathetic surge. "H-how… w-what… w-we'll… don't w-worry… w-we'll get you out of there."_

_Kyle reached up grabbed my hand in his, shaking his head slowly. A single tear parted the dirt and blood upon his cheek. "It's okay Stan," he told me, his voice calm and quite, barely audible over the crackling flames of the wreckage. _

_"It's okay. I don't feel any pain. It will be over soon. You'll be fine, I know it." He swallowed, his red hair growing even more crimson as blood blossomed from his fair head. His face grew grim and serious. "Stan, listen to me. I know you. You're going to blame yourself. You're going to blame yourself for all of this and you're going to live in hell."_

_With his other hand, Kyle laid the bouquet of flowers from the prom into my lap. "Don't blame yourself. You lived for a reason. I want you to be happy." Tears streamed down his face as he felt his soul being wrenched from his body. "I just want you to be happy. But you'll never be able to grow if you keep rooted here. I want you to do one last thing for me, Stan. One last favor… let go. They'll be here soon, Stan. They'll save you. But y…you'll h…ha…have to let go… let go of me."_

_Kyle's hand went limp and would have slipped from my grasp if I hadn't tightened my fist around him. "No!" I shouted through my sobs. "I won't let you go, Kyle! I'll never let go!"_

_"Why don't y…you ever listen t…to me Stan?" Kyle wept with his last breath. "Stan… you have to let go…."_

_XXXXX_

Sharon Marsh entered the white washed room of the psychiatric ward and laid down the books she had recently checked out of the library and arranged the dead flowers on Stan's bedside stand. For the past three months after Stan was shot, she had dedicated her life to staying by her son's side. They had started administrating his medication into his food, forcing him to eat on a schedule.

As she straightened out her back, she chocked on a gasp as Stan was sitting up in his bed for the first time in weeks.

Tears fell from him like rivers and his eyes were bloodshot. He sniffled and looked to his mother. "M-mom?" he called, his voice cracking from his sobs.

"Yes, dear?" Sharon replied, trying to keep herself collected.

"I… I can't see Kyle…." Stan whimpered, his tears pearling as he wept. "I can't see Kyle anymore, Mom."

"Oh…" she replied, taken aback. "Maybe… maybe he's finally moved on to collage, honey."

"Mom," Stan said, his voice stern even through the tears. "What happened? A year ago… what happened?"

Sharon looked away, it hurt her to see her son like this. But it had to be done. This was for the best. She could see it in his eyes. Stan was finally awake at last.

"That night… on prom," she began. "There was a fight that involved both you and Kyle. As a result, you were forced from the dance. I suppose you were angry, because you hadn't buckled your seat belt. There was… there was black ice on the road left over from winter. It had been a very cold month. The car went out of control and caught… caught on a bank. The car flipped so quickly that you were… you were ejected through the front windshield."

"Kyle however," Sharon sighed, feeling a burn begin behind her eyes. "Kyle had buckled his seat belt. He would have been tossed from the car as well, but the belt held him back. He only made it halfway through the windshield and was… was caught underneath the car."

Stan gasped as if it were all new to him, the memories flooded back like a sea of blood. "The paramedics that arrived," Sharon continued, finding it harder and harder to relay the facts. "They said that the hardest part of evacuating you to the hospital was… they had to… they had to pry you away from Kyle's lifeless body. They said that when you screamed his name that it was like the very embodiment of heart break."

The two stayed silent until finally Stan's sobbing trickled away. He sniffed one last time and looked up to his mother again. "You made me a promise," he said confidently. "You said that… as soon as I got better… you would take me to see him."

"Oh, Stan," Sharon whispered.

"Take me to see him," Stan insisted. "Take me to his grave."

XXXXXX

Sharon and Sheila Broflovski looked on from a good distance as Stan approached the grave stone ahead of him.

Stan tried to make words, but his mind was too muddled with disbelief. Had it really been that long? Had he really been hallucinating for months upon months? His heart dropped in his chest as he read the name: "Kyle Broflovski."

Gradually, Stan knelt down and laid the brittle flowers at the base of the stone, finally watering them for the first time with a single tear drop. He stood. He nodded. He turned to leave his past behind. But he knew that he would not be able to let go so easily.

"Not even going to say anything?" asked a voice, and Stan whirled around with wide eyes. "I've waited here so long for you, Stan."

Kyle sat smugly on his gravestone, simpering lovingly under his rose red locks. For an instant, Stan was in awe. He had never seen Kyle look so beautiful!

Stan snapped from his trance and pounded his head with his fists. "I'm not crazy! I'm not crazy!" he growled, clenching his eyes shut.

"Of course you're not," Kyle responded. Stan looked up with his ocean blue eyes in wonder. "It's really me, Stan. But enjoy it, cause this is a one time deal."

"How?" Stan gawked.

"I can't tell you that," Kyle sighed. "It's against the rules." He glanced down to the flowers at his feet and pursed his lips. "You kept the flowers? I thought I told you to let go, Stan."

Stan felt the tension break and he let out a hearty chuckle. That was Kyle all right. "Easier said than done…."

"Obviously," Kyle spat. "I knew you'd blame yourself, but you went really far, dude! So… did you enjoy spending time with that cheap imitation of me?"

"He could never live up to your greatness," Stan answered with a genuine smile.

"Everything's going to be fine now, Stan," Kyle informed. "With this, you'll let go. I just want you to be happy. And if you meet someone that you love later on in life, don't do the fucking "What would Kyle want" shit! I'm telling you now, for all future reference, that you should go out with him! We'll be together again eventually, so don't sweat the small stuff."

"But why did you have to die?" Stan asked, his face melting into a frown.

"Because Stan," Kyle laughed. "It was my time. And it wasn't yours. There is a purpose for everything, Stan. Yeah, I know it's cliché, but you'll learn why you got live. 

You're going to do great things in your life but-" Kyle laid a finger of his lips and smiled. "Can't spoil the surprise, you know?"

"So is this it?" Stan asked, feeling sad again.

"This is never just _it_," Kyle answered. "Ooh! But watch this!" Kyle turned his back to Stan and a light shimmered around his body, growing brighter than the sun. When the flash disappeared, Kyle was standing tall, sporting a pair of white wings.

"Wow…" Stan gawked, amazed at how angelic Kyle looked.

"Yeah," Kyle snickered. "I know how you like dramatics!" Kyle spread his wings and winked once more at Stan. "Love ya!"

**The End**


End file.
